


Filled with Love

by syrupwit



Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Minor Character Death, Trick or Treat 2017
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-30
Updated: 2017-10-30
Packaged: 2019-01-25 16:32:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12536180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/syrupwit/pseuds/syrupwit
Summary: One person Lizzy Stride didn't spare, and three she might.





	Filled with Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kay_obsessive](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kay_obsessive/gifts).



Edgar Wakefield was fish food the moment the Coldridge cell door slammed shut in front of Lizzy Stride. Right then, not a minute before or after. Up to that time, there were other options. She could have made him cut off a hand, for example. Maybe an arm, or a leg, depending on which point in the coup she caught him at. It’d be harder going without a leg, but at least he’d have a chance. He made his choice and stuck to it, though, and now he’s got what he deserved.

The hagfish will eat well tonight. Lizzy opens the hatch in the bottom of the cargo hold and shoves what's left of his body out.

- 

The sixth time Annabelle tries to jump ship, she actually does it. Ferris left weeks ago and didn't come back. Annabelle swims ashore and spends a couple of miserable days on the rocks, living off brandy she stole from Lizzy and an expired tin of whale meat. In the sewers, she robs a single measly krust of its pearl and sustains multiple burns for her trouble. 

A pair of Bottle Street Boys, far from home, pick a fight with some Hatters in the street while she's haggling over the pearl with a totter. Shots ring out, the totter flees with her pearl, and more Bottle Street Boys swarm out of a nearby building. The Bottle Street Boys have whiskey to burn, and it's not long before the street is alight.

Annabelle tries to slip away unnoticed and runs straight into a seething of Eels. 

“Annabelle. Starting a new career as a mudlark?" It's Lizzy.

" _Shit._ " 

Unfortunately, they're in a dead alley, and the brawl spills around the corner at that moment, so Annabelle has no choice but to stand and fight. 

Later, when the fighting seems to have calmed, Annabelle considers running off again. But the base has burn salves and food, and her little sewer-adjacent nest doesn't. She falls in line with the others, hoping Lizzy won't notice. 

Lizzy notices. Lizzy noticed from the start, probably even knew where Annabelle was hiding out -- but she likes playing with Annabelle, the way a wolfhound might play with a captured rat. She lets Annabelle dress her wounds, chow down, then almost sneak away before she materializes behind her like a nightmarish vision.

"You can sleep here tonight," says Lizzy, "but you owe me a toe. For the brandy." 

Annabelle groans and heads for the bunks.

- 

“She’s been hiding out down here for at least two weeks.”

“Three,” the redheaded stowaway corrects, eyes darting rapidly between Lizzy and Maggot Montaine. “And I’ve got a knife, so -- so stay back!”

Lizzy grins, showing off her pointed teeth. The stowaway goes even paler under her freckles, but her stance doesn’t waver.  

“We could use a touch of subtlety around here,” Lizzy says. “How’d you like a job?”

-

Much later, Lizzy finally visits him. The Eels infiltrate the mill in the dead of night, disabling the security system and slipping upstairs without detection. Or maybe they got some help from inside; it's been quieter, almost friendly around here in the months since that snake Daud made his last pass. Nurse Trimble is administering nightly medicines, and his back is turned to the door when Lizzy picks the lock. His eyes haven’t been working so well lately, but he knows it’s her who peeks around the door. She runs Trimble through before he can even scream. Her triumphant smile is flecked with blood.

His voice comes out in rattles and rasps. Almost no one can make out what he says anymore. She understands him, though. Of course she does. She understands him, and she came for him, and if he'd had a dozen sons he couldn't have been prouder. (They'd all probably have been dead by now, if they'd have been sons.)

He tries to warn her about the gas, the lab, the antidote, but she shakes her head. “Daud gave me the antidote months ago.” That slippery bastard. She says she's cleared the mill too, his people are out of the way. 

Lizzy pauses, her hand hovering by the tank. “You sure about this?” she asks. "We could join up. Rule this place together... I know there's shit you're keeping for yourself, old man." There are tears glimmering in her eyes. They won't fall.

Mortimer Hat casts his thoughts down the long, dark shaft of his life, and considers.


End file.
